


Nothing Time Won't Fix

by ladylagunitas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Third Year Hinata Shouyou, Third Year Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio, Third Year Kageyama Tobio, physical injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26349595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylagunitas/pseuds/ladylagunitas
Summary: During their third year, Hinata breaks his nose in one of their regular after-school practices. It's kind of, probably, definitely Kageyama's fault, and while it was an accident, he feels really bad. He tries to make it up to Hinata by taking care of him for the weekend, but as they navigate the beginning of Hinata's recovery, Kageyama is forced to think about their last year together. He's not sure what the future holds, and it makes him reassess all of his feelings and expectations.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 8
Kudos: 140





	1. broken bones

Like most things involving Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama did not see this one coming… but he wasn’t really surprised, either.

Kageyama wasn’t all that shocked when he saw Hinata, his teammate, rival, partner, and (best?) friend fall to the gym floor after colliding with a first year student during an attempt to receive his serve. Despite Hinata’s reflexes, he was still prone to the occasional accident. This time, He’d been in the perfect position, but the overager freshman was in the wrong place. As a result, they’d gotten tangled mid-step.

What  _ did _ catch Kageyama off guard was the way Hinata toppled over, blood suddenly pouring down his face. Instantly queasy, he was at the net before he knew it, replaying the collision in his head to figure out what had happened.

From Kageyama’s vantage point, it looked like Hinata had made the decision to go with the fall— likely to save them both from injuring their knees or ankles— instead of the ball. He’d taken Kageyama’s jump serve right to the face.

Its wicked velocity depleted, the volleyball rolled harmlessly away with a soft  _ tut tut _ that echoed through the now-silent gym. The entire team, managers and teachers included, were frozen to the spot.

Nakamura, the freshman, broke the silence, “Hinata-senpai!” He disentangled his long legs from Hinata’s, his thin face pale. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” he collapsed to the floor in a deep bow and began to apologize profusely, sounding as if he were about to cry.

Time resumed its normal pace.

Ukai interrupted the rest of the team from their slow approach, “Alright, give him some space,” he said. The team took a hesitant step back, and he gestured for Yachi, who was already reaching for the first aid kit.

“It’s okay—” Hinata gurgled, trying to be reassuring. But there was blood dripping from between his fingers and Kageyama could see his eyes watering.

_ Dumbass, _ Kageyama thought, his stomach dropping. 

Yachi guided a clean towel into his hands, her expression drawn. “U-um, Shouyou, that’s a  _ lot _ of blood. Are you sure you’re alright?”

He nodded and took the towel, blood streaking down the front of his practice jersey before he could press it to his face. Some of it speckled the glossy court floor.

Kageyama’s stomach lurched and he shouted, “You  _ stupid _ moron!” He freed his fingers from where they were twisted in the net and stormed towards Hinata. “What kind of dumbass, garbage receive was that? How many times am I going to have to tell you not to receive with your dumb face you stupid—”

Nakamura scampered away as Kageyama approached, but Hinata glared up at him, his eyes bright and challenging.  _ I dare you, _ his eyes said,  _ See what happens. _

Before Kageyama could finish his sentence and find out what Hinata was threatening, Ukai stopped them dead in their tracks with a warning look. “Settle down, you two,” he said, stepping between them. He took a knee next to Hinata, effectively blocking him from Kageyama’s view, and gestured for Hinata to lower the towel. “Let me see.” He gently prodded Hinata’s nose, making him yelp in pain. Ukai sighed. 

Big fat tears began to roll down Hinata’s cheeks, and Yachi rubbed his shoulder, waiting for Ukai’s next instruction. Kageyama had to look away, because his stomach was lurching again. 

“It’s probably broken,” Ukai announced flatly, “Takeda will take you to the hospital—”

Nakamura made a high-pitched noise, “O-oh my god, Hinata-senpai, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I broke your nose, I’m s-sorry.” One of the other first years gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.

“Not your fault,” Hinata said, his voice muffled by the towel. He glanced pointedly at Kageyama, his eyes shining in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

“It’s no one’s fault,” Yamaguchi said peaceably, earning himself an appreciative glance from the coach. He and Yachi helped Hinata to his feet. “Accidents happen, the rest of us will do our cool downs and clean up.”

Takeda whisked Hinata out of the gym without another word, leaving the rest of them waiting awkwardly for instruction. Ukai had Nakamura and one of the younger managers start mopping. The rest of the team began heading towards their water or to start packing gear. Kageyama was left standing in place, feeling oddly off-balance. 

“You look like shit.” Tsukishima drew his attention away from the spots of drying blood and gave him one of those cool, sidelong looks for which he was famous. “Feeling guilty?”

“ _ No _ ,” Kageyama snapped. Was he supposed to feel guilty? It wasn’t his fault that Nakamura had more height than sense. He stomped away, not wanting to give Tsukishima a chance to respond, and picked up the volleyball.

The material was the same as ever, familiar, smooth, and warm against Kageyama’s fingers. It was one of their newer volleyballs, and it was in perfect condition. There was nothing to indicate that it had just been used to break someone’s nose.

Objectively, Kageyama knew that sports injuries happened, and that some were avoidable and some were inevitable. Last year, one of their wing spikers had sprained his wrist during a practice match with Nekoma. The year before that was the fever incident Kageyama didn’t like to remember. A small part of him was surprised that Hinata’s self-destructive streak hadn’t resurfaced sooner, even though he’d been taking good care of himself.

So, how much blame did Kageyama have in this? He’d put the ball in a tricky spot on purpose, after promising the other team (but mostly Hinata), that he’d take back all the points they’d just lost. Nakamura was always running into people or falling over, like a newborn dear, but Kageyama had assumed he’d fall back this time. He’d been wrong.

Feeling disgruntled, annoyed, and uncomfortably unsettled, Kageyama dropped the volleyball in the cart with the others. They’d been scheduled to practice for another half an hour, and then there was the extra practice he’d promised Hinata after. Kageyama’s evening was ruined.

And if Hinata’s nose was really broken, who knew how long it would be before he could play again. The realization only made him grumpier.

The underclassmen all steered clear of Kageyama during cool down exercises, especially Nakamura. He didn’t care to know what his face looked like, but Hinata’s voice rang through his head, unbidden,  _ You look like you’re about to kill someone—If you kill someone I won’t cover for you! _

Yachi approached him after the group stretches, right when the team began to disperse to put everything away. “Hey, Kageyama?” she asked, her voice tentative. “Would you mind getting Hinata’s things from the club room before you leave? Sensei took him right to the doctor.”

Of course, it wasn’t enough to just break his nose, Hinata had to leave all his crap behind for Kageyama to clean up, too. He exhaled slowly and quietly through his nose. “Sure,” he said. All of Hinata’s stuff would be a wreck because he’d been late to practice. It was probably all over the club room. And then there was his bike, still chained up outside the gym.  _ He probably can’t ride with a broken nose. How’s he supposed to get that home? _

“Are you okay?”

Blinking, Kageyama focused on Yachi. He’d zoned out a little, but said, “I’m fine.”

Tilting her head, she gave him an understanding smile, “Alright. Just don’t beat yourself up.”

“O-okay,” he said, puzzled. She went back to the team, leaving Kageyama to wonder if he looked as bad as Tsukishima said he did. He noticed a few of his teammates throwing curious glances his way, and when he caught Ukai watching him, Kageyama suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. He left the cleaning for everyone else and went to the club room, it didn’t seem like anyone would say anything about him bailing early.

Kageyama changed out of his sweaty practice clothes, put on deodorant, and got Hinata’s stuff together. It was crammed mindlessly into his cubby, and when Kageyama tried to take it out, it all fell on the floor. He stared at everything for a long moment. Hinata’s textbooks were overflowing with scraps of paper that looked like they were meant to be notes. Mostly, they were just doodles of volleyballs and half-baked ideas for plays.

Sighing, he picked everything up and packed it neatly into Hinata’s bag.

The door to the clubroom opened and Ukai leaned inside, “Kageyama.”

“Coach?”

“Takeda just called, Hinata is with the doctor now. When he’s cleared, Takeda will drive him home but will stop at the store. Why don’t you take his stuff there and wait? Yamaguchi can lock up and take care of the key.”

Relieved that Hinata wouldn’t attempt to bike over the mountain with a broken face, Kageyama nodded obediently. “Yes, coach.”

Ukai studied him for a moment, then said, “It could be a while, depending on how bad the break is. Don’t eat too much junk food while you’re waiting.” He left it at that and closed the door behind him. 

Going to the store sounded way better than navigating the rest of the team’s attention, and Kageyama’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He grabbed his and Hinata’s bags and went to get the bike before the rest of the team came back to change. Kageyama knew the code to the bike lock, 0205, only because Hinata was physically incapable of leaving any thought in his head unspoken. 

He set Hinata’s bag in the basket and made his way off campus, the bike strangely loud without Hinata’s chatter to drown it out. As Kageyama made his way to the store, the incident replayed on a loop in his head. He kept hearing the sound of Nakamura and Hinata colliding, kept seeing the way the ball had ricocheted away. The blood was the worst part, the memory of it left Kageyama feeling uneasy and unsettled.

With a deep breath, Kageyama locked the bike to the rack outside of the store and instead tried to focus on the good parts of practice. The new librero was finally becoming more communicative during rallies, and one of the middle blockers added a decent amount of height to his block. Kageyama and Hinata were getting the hang of a new attack, too, and Ukai had run them through some new exercises. 

Feeling a little better, he went inside. The woman at the counter nodded at him, but if she thought anything about him being there alone, she didn’t give any indication. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come here by himself.

But without a needy middle blocker around to pester him for food like a spoiled child, Kageyama could browse the selection in peace. He knew he had time to kill before Takeda arrived, so he made a big deal of browsing the convenience meals. His parents wouldn’t be home to cook dinner that night, and he needed something to hold him over until he could get home and raid the pitiful selection of leftovers. 

Kageyama knew better than to fill up on junk, even without Ukai having to tell him. He read the labels carefully and selected two meals that would be both balanced and nutritious. Then he got some milk, of course, and protein bars. Before heading to the counter to pay, he grabbed the last couple meat buns, too. There weren’t many left, probably because the soccer club had already come through, but the smell of them made his mouth water.

The purchase killed the remainder of his lunch money for the week, but with the weekend ahead, it didn’t matter. Kageyama took his snacks outside to wait by the bike to make sure no one messed with it. He ate a protein bar, drank a carton of milk, and wrote in his volleyball journal for the day. He included a note about Hinata’s injury, but didn’t go into detail.  _ Dumbass got himself hurt trying to receive a serve. Typical. _

He was tearing into his second carton of milk when the school van pulled up and parked next to the curb. It was one of the cramped 12-seaters they took to practice matches when the big bus wasn’t available. Takeda rolled down the window and smiled at him, “Kageyama, thank you for waiting.”

Kageyama nodded quietly and peered around Takeda to look for that familiar mop of orange hair. “Where’s Hinata?”

“I’m here,” he said, leaning forward in his seat so Kageyama could see him through the window. He sounded rough, like he had a terrible cold, and looked even worse. Hinata’s eyes were puffy and red from when he’d been crying, and an ugly, dark bruise peeked out from the edges of his bandages. Gauze was packed around his nose and taped in place, making his face look even more swollen. “Oh,” he said, his eyes glittering in the fading daylight. “Is that a mean bun, Kageyama?”

Snatching the paper bag from the bench, he barked, “It’s not for you, stupid,” more out of habit than anything. Takeda laughed and went to open the back of the van for the bike.

“Oh, come on,” Hinata whined, draping himself over the seat. He watched Kageyama and their teacher lift the bike into the vehicle, “You  _ did _ break my nose, it’s the least you could do.”

They fought with the handlebars to get it wedged into place between the rows of seats. “Are you sure you don’t want to get something to eat here?” Takeda asked him, sounding as if he’d already had this conversation. 

“Nah I’m alright. My mom made a bunch of food before she left, so I’ll be fine.”

Kageyama went to the passenger side of the car, frowning. “Where’s your mom?” he asked, his arms full of school bags and snacks.

Hinata opened the door and took his things from Kageyama. “She’s gone for the week, remember? Natsu has a school trip and they won’t be back until Monday night. That’s why I told you we could stay extra late to practice today.”

Right. If Kageyama tried, he could almost remember the conversation they’d had at the beginning of the week. It explains why Hinata had been so wound up that morning. “Oh.”

“Kageyama, would you like a ride home?” Takeda asked, climbing into the driver’s seat “I can drop you off on the way to Hinata’s house, you’ll just have to tell me how to get there.”

“Um,” he looked between the two of them. It didn’t feel right to leave Hinata to fend for himself all weekend. He could barely take care of himself on a good day and Kageyama had a feeling that if left unsupervised, Hinata would end up in the hospital,  _ again _ . “I’ll just go to Hinata’s house,” he said gruffly. “My mom can pick me up later, so you don’t have to go out of your way.”

“What!” Hinata wheeled around in his seat, staring as Kageyama got in. His bag, which Kageyama had so carefully packed, fell over. All the loose papers and books and pencils spilled all over the floor of the van. “You never want to come over.”

“Shut up, unless you don’t want this meat bun,” Kageyama warned, slamming the door shut louder than he needed to. He crawled into the seat, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Hinata. He felt a little self-conscious about his decision. Kageyama had never invited himself over to anyone’s house before. 

“No, no no no. It’s alright, my mom says you’re welcome any time,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. He glanced at the paper bag in Kageyama’s hands.

He threw it at him, taking the unusual effort to not aim for his face. 

Hinata caught it and all but tore the bag to shreds to get to the meat buns.

Takeda laughed and started the van, “That sounds good to me. I’m sure your mom will be relieved to know that you’re not alone.”

“Was she mad?” Kageyama asked, thinking about how his parents would likely react in the same situation.

“No, mostly just worried,” Takeda said. “Hinata talked her out of coming home early from her trip.”

“Natsu’s been talking about this trip for months. I’ll be fine,” he said. There was some shuffling as he crammed his belongings into his bag and pulled out a bun. “The doctor said I probably won’t even need surgery, just some rest.”

Kageyama’s stomach dropped. “S-Surgery?” His mind started to spin. If Hinata needed surgery on his face then that would  _ definitely _ disrupt their plans for the season. How long was the recovery time for face surgery? Probably longer than it took for a sprained joint. How was he supposed to play, how was Karasuno supposed to play, without him?

“It’s unlikely,” Takeda injertected. He sounded calm, and Kageyama held onto his reassuring words like a lifeline. “Hinata will go back to the doctor in a few days and see what else needs to be done. She said it wasn’t a messy break, so Hinata should heal just fine.”

Hinata made a weird noise, “I didn’t think it would hurt this much to chew.”

“Try taking smaller bites, dumbass.” Kageyama snapped. He crossed his arms and sank into his seat, feeling more confident in his decision to babysit. He had to make sure Hinata didn’t hurt himself any worse. Then Kageyama had a sudden thought. “Is it going to look different?” he asked. 

“Who knows,” Hinata said, his voice stuffy and his mouth full. “You might have disfigured me for life.”

“Hinata.” Takeda admonished him in that gentle way he usually did. “It probably won’t look that different.” 

He snickered, but didn't apologize, choosing instead to focus on taking the tiniest bites Kageyama had ever seen. They started the long, steep climb up the hill separating Karasuno from Hinata’s house, and Kageyama was left to think.

They’d both changed, in physical and emotional ways, since they’d met before that middle school match. Kageyama had grown taller and put on muscle, and Hinata had gotten a  _ little _ taller and had maybe possibly gotten broader, but Kageyama had never really thought about Hinata actually changing. They still lived and breathed volleyball, competed nonstop, and spent every waking moment dedicated to their sport and partnership. How  _ would _ it feel if Hinata showed up one day with an entirely new nose? It was jarring enough for Kageyama when he showed up with an unexpected haircut. 

Kageyama stared out the window, the street lights flickering to life as the early fall sun began to set. The leaves were beginning to change, and by the time spring returned, they would no longer be teammates, and after that, Hinata would grow and change on his own.

Hinata’s broken nose was Kageyama’s fault, and now he really did feel bad. 


	2. Aching hearts

“You didn’t have to come over, you know,” Hinata said, flipping the light switch at the entryway. He left his shoes in a messy pile by the door and tossed his bag in the direction of his room before going to the kitchen. Kageyama thought he heard a few pens scatter across the floor as he paused to take off his shoes.

The house was quieter than Kageyama was used to, usually there was music or tv on in the other room. He put his shoes next to Natsu’s small yellow slippers and followed Hinata. “I know, but if you bled to death over the weekend, Yamaguchi would kick me off the team.”

“Ha! Can a vice-captain even be kicked off of a team?” Hinata wondered. He threw open the fridge door and started poking around its contents, “If anyone deserves it, it’s you. But I’m starving,” he said, breezing by the insult without giving Kageyama a chance to respond, “Do you want something to eat? I was going to make rice and maybe fry up some veggies. There’s some leftover soup, too.”

Kageyama set his stuff down in Hinata’s mom’s seat and set the konbiri food on the table. “I bought some food at the store before you picked me up. You don’t have to make me anything.”

“Oh? What’d you get?” Hinata asked, slamming the fridge shut and coming over to inspect the packages. In the light of the kitchen, he looked even  _ more _ beat up than he had in the car. One of his eyes looked like it would be black in the morning.

Frowning, Kageyama asked, “Are you sure you’re up for cooking?”

“I guess I don’t really want to cook if I don’t have to,” he said with a shrug. He picked up one of the boxes and turned his big, doe-like eyes to Kageyama. “Share with me?” He’d been refinding that puppy-dog look over the years and depending on the audience, it almost always worked. Their classmates, girls and guys alike, always fell for it, and it had a 50/50 success rate with the volleyball team. 

Usually, Kageyama was immune to it, but this time, he caved, “Fine, but we’re sharing both evenly.”

“ _ Yes,” _ Hinata punched the air triumphantly. “Less waiting, fewer dishes,” he said with a grin, and taking containers to the microwave. “Can you make some rice and get these started? I want to change out of my practice clothes before I eat.”

Kageyama looked around the kitchen, suddenly seeing it like anew. Without Hinata’s mom and sister, it felt like being in a foreign country. Was he even allowed to touch anything without a parent there? He glanced at Hinata, who was waiting expectantly for an answer, “I guess.”

“Cool, I’ll be right back.”

“Good, you stink.”

“ _ You _ stink,” Hinata fired back, vanishing down the hall. 

Alone in the kitchen, Kageyama nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot before going to the pantry. Even though he’d been there before, he half expected Hinata’s parents to pop out of nowhere and yell at him for touching their stuff. His family had always been welcoming, but Kageyama still felt like he didn’t belong. 

But, he’d promised himself that he would take care of Hinata, so Kageyama took a deep breath and made the rice. He touched as few things as possible and even put the rice scoop back at the exact angle he’d found it, just in case. 

Kageyama was wiping down the counter when he heard a yelp from down the hall that made him jump. His first thought was,  _ He’s about to die, _ then he was tearing down the hallway before he had a chance to think anything else. His heart was pounding in his ears when he skid to a halt in Hinata’s doorway. “Hinata?” 

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Hinata said, not looking okay at all. He was crumpled on the ground, his hands cradling his face. He’d gotten halfway through taking off his shirt. One arm was free, the other was still in its sleeve, and the material was hiked up past his belly. Any other day, Kageyama would have told him he looked stupid.

The panic bled out of Kageyama’s body with a long, slow exhale. “What did you do?” he asked, coming in to kneel beside Hinata. 

He glanced at Kageyama, his eyes watering, and didn’t drop his hands from his face. “I was trying to take my shirt off, but I bumped my nose.”

“That’s all?” Kageyama asked, feeling relieved.

“It really hurt, okay?” he whined. Hinata turned to Kageyama but didn’t drop his hands, asking, “Does it look bad?”

Scooting closer, Kageyama swatted his hands away as carefully as he could muster, “Let me see.” He put his fingertips on Hinata’s cheeks, his thumbs pressing gently against Hinata’s jaw. Cautiously, lightly, and more gingerly than he’d ever touched anything, Kageyama turned Hinata’s face one way, and then the other. He held his breath the entire time, trying to focus on any little thing that was out of place. 

But it didn’t seem like anything needed fixing. The medical tape holding the gauze packed around Hinata’s nose was still snug and secure. There was no sign of fresh blood, but up close, Kageyama could see just how red Hinata’s eyes were. He’d cried a lot today. 

Just to be sure, Kageyama ran one finger across the tape on Hinata’s cheek. The material was smooth and as warm as Hinata’s skin, but nowhere near as soft. Cupping Hinata’s face with one hand, he lightly traced the edges of the tape, compelled to touch.

Hinata’s breath was sweet under the clean, familiar smell of his post-practice sweat. His hair, always a disaster, tickled the back of Kageyama’s hand as he mapped Hinata’s face with his fingers. Suddenly, Kageyama realized just how long he’d been touching Hinata’s face. He dropped his hands quickly, pulling away and glancing up to reassure Hinata that everything looked fine, but his voice died in his throat.

Hinata was staring, with  _ that _ look. The bright one that contained a frightening, unapologetic challenge. It was the one he got only sometimes, during a fierce game or with a new opponent, but it was the one that always,  _ always  _ sent a shiver down Kageyama’s spine.

This time was no exception. He tried to hide his shudder by clasping his hands tightly in his lap and leaning away. But Hinata was sitting so still, and was so focused, that Kageyama didn’t think there was any way he’d get out of this one alive. His heart began to pound again.

He couldn’t look away from that expression, though. Kageyama didn’t want to lose.

_ Lose what? _ He wondered, the words echoing from a great distance. Kageyama licked his lips and said, “It looks bad, but not any worse than it did when we got here.”

Hinata blinked, and  _ poof, _ that expression was gone. He shoved Kageyama away and called him a name Kageyama couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in his ears. Hinata stood up and turned away from him to peel his shirt the rest of the way off. He threw it aggressively into the hamper. 

Kageyama sat there, his cheeks burning and his empty hands twisting his lap.

Usually, at this point, Hinata would give him a dirty look or start an argument. But his shoulders slumped with exhaustion and Kageyama saw the fight drain out of him. He stood in his messy, brightly lit room, in nothing but his practice shorts and a pair of stretched out athletic socks.

He just looked like… Hinata.

Like the person who’d crashed into Kageyama’s life when he expected it the least and needed it the most. The person who always pushed Kageyama to be better, to fight harder, the person who always called him out on his bullshit. The person who biked over a mountain every day for almost three years just because he wanted to. The only person Kageyama would ever let defeat him.

At that moment, Kageyama saw Hinata completely.

Which also included seeing Hinata as the person whose nose he’d broken and who he’d just insulted instead of comforting.

“I’m going to wash up.” Hinata’s tone made him grimace, and he went obediently back to the kitchen. 

Kageyama shouldn’t have teased him, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to review them. It was instinct. He stood in the middle of the kitchen and stared at the rice cooker. They’d smooth things over at some point, because they always did. 

He finished warming up dinner and thought about what it’d been like to hold Hinata’s face in his hands. It was something he’d never done before, and it stuck in his head on a loop. 

Hinata’s had been so  _ fragile. _ Not delicate, but as sharp as glass and dangerous in a way Kageyama couldn’t quite understand. 

He leaned against the counter and stared at his hands. Why had Hinata looked at him that way? What was he supposed to have said? He felt unbalanced, like the rug had been pulled out from under him. But one thing was clear, Hinata deserved better from him, so Kageyama would do better.

Starting with dinner.

Taking a deep breath, Kageyama resolved to set his awkwardness aside so that he could do things right. He opened cabinets and drawers until he found everything he needed to set the table with napkins, utensils, and two glasses of cold water. That awkward, nervous feeling was still in the back of his head, but he stubbornly ignored it. He made sure the convenience store foot was heated evenly and completely, then cleaned the inside of the microwave, something he never did at home. After poking around in the fridge, he found a container of cut melon and set that on the table, in case Hinata wanted dessert.

“What’s all this?”

Hinata’s voice made Kageyama jump, but he didn’t turn away from where he was serving two plates of rice. “Dinner?” he said, his voice turning it into a question. The tips of his ears warmed. He tried to ignore it and focused on his task. When he turned around to set the plates on the table, Hinata was right behind him. 

He wore an oversized tee shirt and a pair of soft shorts and he smelled strongly of his body wash, which Kageyama could probably recognize from a mile away. The tips of his hair were damp, but the rest was dry. There was a funny, assessing look on his face that was eerily similar to the expression he got when he was trying to translate his English homework.

They stared at each other, and after a moment, Hinata took the plates and broke the silence, “Looks good.”

Peace had been brokered. 

Kageyama brought the rest of the food to the table, looking everywhere except at Hinata. He slid into his seat, across from Hinata, and snuck a glance at him. Hinata raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t call him out on being weird. 

Taking a quick drink of water to hide his nerves— why was he so nervous? They’d shared every lunch and post-practice snack together for the last two and a half years— Kageyama took exactly half of both of the convenience store meals and left the rest for Hinata. “S-sorry for being rude,” he muttered without looking up. The words felt awkward on his tongue, like he was speaking another language. Apologizing shouldn’t be this hard, but whenever he had to apologize to Hinata, it always felt like losing. 

“Kageyama,” Hinata cocked his head, his fingers playing restlessly with the napkin next to his plate. “Do you...” his voice trailed off, and when Kageyama glanced up, Hinata was looking away, his bottom lip between his teeth, “Do you want to watch some V. League videos after we eat?” His voice was tentative, and if it weren’t for the bruising and bandages, Kageyama would have guessed that Hinata was blushing. 

The air in the room felt stiff. “Sure,” Kageyama replied, his voice cracking, just barely. That hadn’t happened in a long time, and he felt the heat in his ears spread to his face. He discretely cleared his throat and pointedly turned his attention to his plate.

There was a moment of quiet as they accepted the truce before they fell into their usual routine. They ate, slowly in Hinata’s case, and complained about school. They shared book recommendations that would definitely distract them from their academics but keep them moving forward in volleyball. As conversation flowed, the strangeness in the air faded. 

When they’d finished dinner, Kageyama kicked Hinata out of the kitchen to clean up. He did the dishes and put away the leftovers (only rice, they’d demolished the rest, including the melon), while Hinata got their videos cued up in the other room. Even over the sound of the kitchen sink, Kageyama could hear Hinata scrambling around to skip the ads that popped up with each video. 

They’d never hung out like this before, without some kind of practice built-in, but it was kind of nice. While drying his hands, Kageyama realized that with graduation in the not-so-distant future, these opportunities were limited. Once they went their separate ways, there would be no reason for Kageyama to visit Hinata’s house. Without the Karasuno volleyball team, there would be no reason for them to be… them. No reason to be partners any more. 

“Make sure you turn the light off when you come back!” Hinata shouted from the living room.

The demand jolted Kageyama out of his thoughts. Ignoring the way his heart was twisting, he picked up their cups of water and went to the living room, switching off the lights as instructed. Hinata liked watching videos and movies in complete darkness, wrapped up in a blanket, and most of the time, while stuffing his face full of snacks.

There were no snacks, but he had a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders, all the extra cushions piled around him. His laptop was on the coffee table next to him connected to the television, V League highlights ready and waiting. Kageyama put their glasses on the table and sat on the single available cushion next to Hinata. Usually, Natsu would be there to take the spot between them, and Kageyama found that he really missed her.

“Ready?” Hinata asked, grinning. His smile wasn’t as wide or bright as it usually was, it probably hurt to move his face like that.

Wondering if he should get an ice pack or pain reliever before they settle in, Kageyama said, “Yeah, but do you, um,” he glanced back to the kitchen. “Do you need anything? Like medicine or something?”

“Oh, they gave me some medicine at the hospital. I don’t have to take it again until morning,” he said, tilting his head. Hinata brought a hand up and ran a finger over the edge of the tape holding everything in place. “It doesn’t hurt that much now, I think I’m okay.” He squinted at Kageyama, “Do  _ you _ need anything?”

“Why would I need anything? I’m not the one with a broken face.”

“I don’t know, don’t you need to call your mom or something?” Hinata asked, “You’re spending the night, aren’t you?”

Right, they hadn’t actually talked about it, and suddenly Kageyama realized that maybe Hinata wouldn’t  _ want _ the person responsible for breaking his nose staying overnight. “I-I don’t know,” he stammered, feeling uncharacteristically shy and self-conscious. His mom would still be able to pick him up, just not for another couple of hours, probably.

Hinata stared at him. Then, after a long moment, laughed. “It’s already late, you should just stay the night.” Grinning, he added, “Are you worried about me?”

“No,” Kageyama answered quickly. Too quickly. He felt his face heating up.

“Don’t get upset, worry-yama,” Hinata said, smugly lifting his chin. As always, he saw right through Kageyama, “I’m  _ fine _ . You can spend the night, tomorrow we can make up for our lost practice time.”

The thought of Hinata practicing again made Kageyama’s stomach drop, “No way, dumbass. What did the doctor say about practicing?”

“Ah,” caught, Hinata dropped his chin into his hand with a pout. He looked at the tv, “It’ll be a little while. It depends on what they say next time I go in.” It was the first trace of sadness Kageyama had seen in him since the accident. There was nothing Hinata hated more than not being able to play volleyball. 

“Just start the videos, dumbass. Maybe you can learn something for once,” Kageyama said, wanting to distract him. 

Hinata rolled his eyes and didn’t look at him, but there was the trace of a smile when he hit the play button. They rolled through video after video, taking the occasional break to replay something and discuss it. Both of them had seen a lot of these highlights and interviews already, definitely on their own and a few of them they’d watched together, but they always found something new to talk about. Hinata was developing a decent eye for observation, but Kageyama still had him beat on strategy. 

This was the kind of teammate Kageyama had always wanted. Hinata saw things differently than he did, and vice versa, and that made them a good match. Hinata saw openings where other people didn’t, and Kageyama was better at seeing the bigger picture. It was easy time spent, and before Kageyama knew it, they’d been watching videos for hours and it was way past time to go to bed. He was feeling tired, and Hinata had his head on the table, practically half asleep.

“Oi,” Kageyama said, reaching out to nudge him. 

Hinata grumbled in response and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” Kageyama hissed. “You still have to give me a place to sleep, dumbass.”

“Get it yourself, meanie-yama,” Hinata grumbled, burying his face carefully in his arm. He sighed, deflating, and Kageyama knew he had to work fast. If Hinata actually fell asleep here, he’d be there until morning. 

But he couldn’t quite bring himself to jostle Hinata like he usually would. Kageyama poked him again in the arm, and when he didn’t move, tugged gently on a piece of his hair. It was getting long, and was more wavy than poofy now that it was growing out some more. It was probably long enough to tie up in a ponytail.

Hinata’s hair was soft and right at his fingertips, but he pulled his hand away before he could think anything else weird. “Just tell me where the extra stuff is, I’ll get it,” he murmured, getting to his feet. He closed the laptop and turned off the tv, plunging the room into darkness.

“Hall closet.” Hinata’s voice was quiet and sleepy. This was a rare side of Hinata that Kageyama didn’t get to see very often. Even when they had overnight trips, Hinata was usually wired up until the moment he passed out.

Kageyama’s heart started to beat a little faster for no reason. He couldn’t see Hinata, and wasn't touching him any more. It was just his voice making Kageyama feel… awake. Different from the voice Hinata used in practice, different than when he was talking to their classmates, even. It was possible that Kageyama was the only person at Karasuno that had heard Hinata like this, and it made his chest ache.

“Alright, get up,” Kageyama said. He leaned over and felt around until he found Hinata’s arm. “You can’t sleep out here, you’ll catch a cold and mess up your back,” he said, pulling gently. 

“Fine, fine,” he huffed. Hinata got up, letting Kageyama’s hand fall away. He shuffled forward, around the table, and bumped right into Kageyama’s arm with a startled noise. “Sorry. I thought you were already going to my room. I’ll go first.”

Clumsily, he stepped around Kageyama and let the way down the hall, the sound of the blanket dragging behind him. With the house so dark, Kageyama couldn’t see him, so he kept his distance to avoid tripping over the blanket. He walked as quietly as he could, listening for Hinata in the dark. 

“It’s in there, I’ll get a light,” Hinata said. Kageyama waited in the hallway, and a moment later, the lamp in Hinata's bedroom clicked on, illuminating the stretch of hallway outside his door. “Check that closet,” he said with a yawn, “Should be a futon and some extra sheets.”

“Okay.” Kageyama opened the closet door and found the bedding on the middle shelf. Every other time he’d come over, it’d already been set up for him, but he recognized the floral pattern on the spare sheets. Before gathering it all up into his arms, Kageyama watched Hinata go to his bed and lay down, blanket and all. He didn’t even bother getting under the covers.

Sighing, Kageyama grabbed his bedding and dropped it on the floor before crouching in front of Hinata. “You gotta at least get under the blankets, Hinata.”

Rolling over obstinately, he said, “I’m tired now, Kageyama. No time.”

Instead of lecturing him, Kageyama left him be. As quietly as he could, Kageyama got another blanket from the closet and put it over Hinata, to make up for the covers he was on top of. Kageyama even patted the blanket snug around Hinata’s feet, earning him a pleased, sleepy little noise.

Then, Kageyama got ready for bed, making sure to leave enough space to walk between the futon and Hinata’s bed, in case Hinata needed to get up in the middle of the night. He replied to his mom’s text about bringing extra things in the morning, then did his best to clean up. Kageyama used some mouthwash in place of brushing his teeth and changed into the back-up shirt he’d started packing since Hinata had puked on the bus freshman year. A lot of the things he did these days were built around Hinata’s quirks, it seemed.

By the time he slid into his covers, Hinata was fast asleep. His breathing was deep and even, if a little stuffy. He could see the dark, lumpy outline of Hinata in the dark. Wondering if he could reach Hinata from here, just in case, Kageyama lifted a hand and reached across the gap between their two beds. His fingers found the edge of the blanket he’d tucked around Hinata, could sense his warmth, and that was enough.

Another one of their limited days together was gone, now. Hinata’s bruising would fade, his broken bones would heal, and eventually, they would graduate. Kageyama pulled his hand back and tucked his to his chest, pulling his covers around him. 

For whatever reason, Kageyama didn’t want any of it to end. The future was bright and promising, and he looked forward to all the things that he would do, but he worried that he would be alone again. It made his heart hurt to think about it. He wanted to stay in that moment, in the dark, by Hinata’s side, forever. 

He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of Hinata’s breathing, close and within reach. Kageyama counted his stuffy breaths and memorized the way it felt to be in his room. The smell and sounds of Hinata enveloped him, and Kageyama let his breathing match up with his restful, deep breaths, and fell quickly asleep. 


	3. distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been 90% done for months- thanks depression!!!!

“Hold  _ still _ ,” Kageyama hissed, barely resisting the urge to smack Hinata upside the head. 

Hinata squirmed on the bathroom counter and replied with a bold-faced lie: “I’m  _ trying _ . If you could be more gentle, maybe—”

Kageyama pinched his cheek before he could finish his sentence, making him yelp and kick out. “I would be more gentle if you sat still like I asked you to, dumbass,” He scolded. 

Hinata made a big show of sighing and straightening his back. “Fine.”

“Just one second,” Kageyama said, stepping between Hinata’s knees and cupping his chin again. Hinata had dragged him out of a shower to help take off the bandaging because he was too much of a baby to do it himself. Kageyama rolled the pad of his finger over the edge of the tape, just below Hinata’s blackened eye.

“Just hurry up,” Hinata said, keeping so still that he hardly even moved his lips. “It’s really itchy.”

It looked itchy. The tape and gauze had miraculously stayed in place despite Hinata’s typical nighttime thrashing. There wasn’t even a loose edge or corner, and the margins of the tape had turned Hinata’s skin blotchy and pale. His other cheek, under his unblackened eye, was pink from where he’d tried and failed to take it off himself. 

So, there they were, their faces mere inches away from each other, their bodies crowded together in the muggy bathroom. The condensation from Kageyama’s hot, but short, shower filled the room, lingering in spite of the open door. Since he’d barely had the time to rinse the conditioner from his hair, much less dry it, Kageyama’s hair dripped into his eyes, making it hard to focus on the task at hand. Where Hinata’s knees bumped the outside of his thighs, his skin was too warm.

“If I can get the edge up, the rest should be easy to pull off,” Kageyama said. He pushed his hair out of his face, regretting his decision to spend the night and help him at all. 

“Try the other side again,” he said, tilting his face away. “Maybe the moisture made it looser,” but even with his head turned, Hinata’s breath was cool and minty on Kageyama’s face. That was even more distracting than his dripping hair.

He tried to ignore Hinata’s proximity as much as he could. He ran his finger over the edge of the tape again, this time on the other side, trying to find an edge he could peel away. Hinata’s long lashes tickled the tops of Kageyama’s fingers, and he could feel Hinata’s warm gaze.

Kageyama could sense every little movement in Hinata’s body. The finite shifting of weight, the whisper of his breath, the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He even noticed the way Hinata’s ankles knotted together, in anticipation of the discomfort to come. Kageyama tried not to look at him, but it didn’t matter. It was like being in the middle of a game, right before their quick, when everything fell away except for Hinata and his undeniable gravity.

All he could feel was that pull. 

To his credit, Hinata was doing his best to stay still. But even his gaze was too much.

“Close your eyes,” Kageyama said, more gruffly than he intended. He pushed his hair out of his face again and took a deep breath to level his mounting irritation.

Hinata’s gaze shot away, something like panic flashing behind it before he dutifully closed his eyes. He tucked his hands under his thighs and then went very, very still.

Gently, Kageyama worked a corner until it came loose, until the tag was big enough to grip. “Okay,” he murmured, mostly to himself, “I’m going to pull.” He gave the warning because he fully expected Hinata to shove him into the wall. Hinata squeezed his eyes tight and Kageyama cupped his chin with his other hand before pulling the tape as carefully as he could. 

There was resistance, but it slowly came free, leaving behind pale skin and small spots of residue on Hinata’s cheek. “Good,” Kageyama murmured, adjusting the angle of Hinata’s face when he reached the bridge of his nose. This was the part he was most worried about. He tilted Hinata’s chin and tightened his grip before starting again. When he went back to working it free, he was met with a flinch and a whimper. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly. Dropping his hands, he took a quick step back and asked, “Are you sure you should be taking this off?” 

“Yeah, doc said to.” When Kageyama made a face and stepped back between his knees, Hinata grabbed his shoulder to steady himself. “Be quick.”

Kageyama frowned and took hold of the loose tag. As soon as he touched it, Hinata locked up. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he chided, positioning his hands so he had the best grip all while trying to ignore the warmth of Hinata’s skin. 

Hinata took a long, deep breath, and while he was focused on breathing, Kageyama ripped the tape off the bridge of Hinata’s nose. The grip on his shoulder tightened painfully and sharper still was the sound Hinata made. Then he was shoved roughly away.

“What the  _ hell,  _ Kageyama? I told you to be gentle.”

“You said to be  _ quick _ ,” he shot back. “I thought it would be better if it were quicker, anyway. You know, literally ripping off the bandaid.”

Hinata groaned, his eyes watering. “Well it  _ literally  _ felt like you ripped half my face off.” He turned and wiped the condensation away from the mirror to inspect the damage.

Not that there was any. “It looks fine,” Kageyama grumbled. He should have known that this whole thing was more trouble than it was worth. 

“I guess,” he said, sounding almost irritated that his face was still in one piece. “Can you do the rest?”

Sighing loudly, Kageyama stepped back between his knees. “You’re hopeless. What would you have done if I weren’t here?”

“You’re here now, so why does it matter?”

He cupped Hinata’s face without saying anything else. Had Hinata not yet realized that they wouldn’t always be together? Kageyama’s heart twisted in his chest. He delicately started working the next piece free, and the rest of it came away much more easily than the first part. “There, it’s done.”

“What does it look like?” Hinata asked, his eyes still closed. 

Kageyama considered Hinata’s face. He had full permission to stare, and Hinata couldn’t even see him do it. He took his time looking Hinata over. His left eye was partially blackened, a ring of yellow and blue mottling the apple of his cheek. His nose, usually a bit small for his face, was puffy and swollen, but it looked better than Kageyama had imagined. His skin was pale where the tape had been and red where they’d picked at it. There were little traces of sticky residue and hints of dried blood. 

But, to Kageyama’s immense relief, he still looked like Hinata. His hair was a wreck, just like it always was when he just woke up, and his eyelashes were still too light to  _ really _ notice from far away. His mouth was twisted into the same pout he wore whenever he was dreading something, and even though he was supposed to be sitting still again, his fingers were tapping on the counter. 

Hinata opened his eyes, “Well?”

Crossing his arms and ignoring the warmth on his cheeks, Kageyema said, “It looks like you took a volleyball to the face, stupid.”

This earned him a dirty look, which was also the same as ever. Hinata turned around to look at his face again. He leaned close to the mirror, still streaky with moisture, and turned his head one way, and then the other. “Huh,” he said, meeting Kageyama’s eyes through the mirror. “It  _ does _ look like I took a volleyball to the face.”

“What else would it look like?” he grabbed his towel and left the bathroom before Hinata could drag him into anything else. Kageyama threw his towel over his head and plopped down onto Hinata’s unmade bed, feeling guilty again. This was all so  _ stupid _ . If he hadn’t tried to be an asshole about that serve, then Hinata and Nakamura wouldn’t have collided. Kageyama would never admit this under any other circumstance, but he would have preferred Hinata’s gloating to this. 

_ This _ being the softness of Hinata’s cheeks and the warmth of his breath on Kageyama’s fingertips. Weird, scary thoughts about the future. Thinking of him in the dark, wanting to do better by him, feeling… unpleasant whenever Kageyama thought of them going their separate ways. 

He scrubbed at his hair, taking his confusion out on his scalp. It was all ridiculous, where were these thoughts even coming from? Being around Hinata was supposed to be easy. It had always been easy. 

“You’re right,” Hinata said, coming into the room, “It doesn’t look that bad.” Kageyama peeked out from beneath his towel and saw Hinata tapping his cheek thoughtfully. “Do you think anyone would believe me if I told them I got into a fight?”

In an attempt to not look at Hinata’s face, Kageyama started pawing around in the bag his mother had dropped off earlier that morning. He felt kind of warm, like he’d only just stepped out of the shower. “You?” he snorted. “People would only be surprised that it took so long.”

Flopping onto the bed beside him, Hinata grinned crookedly. “It’s not my fault that everyone wants to fight me.”

“Oh, it’s definitely your fault,” Kageyama said, rolling his eyes. “If you stop picking fights every time you go to the bathroom, no one would  _ want _ to fight you.” He sat up, and Hinata tried to put his feet on Kageyama’s lap like he was a piece of furniture. “Besides,” he said, swatting Hinata’s feet away, “If you told people you were in a fight, they would all assume that you lost.”

“Hey!”

“Face it, jumping high won’t help you in a fist fight.”

“It will if I’m trying to kick them in the face! Watch!” Hinata launched forward, tackling Kageyama around the waist. 

They went tumbling down before Kageyama had a chance to stammer anything more than, “H-Hinata!” They landed in a mess of legs and blankets, strewn awkwardly over Kageyama’s overnight bag. Kageyama froze, afraid to hurt him. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure Hinata would be able to hear it. 

“Ow, ow, ow—” he rolled over so that he was half-laying on Kageyama, his head uncomfortably heavy against his shoulder and way too close to Kageyama’s heart. Their feet were still up on the bed, all twisted up in that extra blanket. “I bumped my nose again.”

“Just— of course you did— stop moving.” He squeezed his arm out from under Hinata and put his hands on his shoulders, making him stay in place. Kageyama leaned his head back onto the floor, his back stretching awkwardly over his bag. “You’re going to hurt yourself again, dumbass,” he said. “How was tackling me supposed to help you kick me in the head, anyway?”

Hinata did as he was told and went still, his weight sinking into Kageyama’s chest and side. His bony elbow was sharp against Kageyama’s ribcage, but neither of them made a move to get up. He tilted his head up and tried to look at him, “I hadn’t gotten that far,” he admitted. “Honestly, I thought you were going to dodge me.”

“So you were fully ready to dive off the bed, face first, with a broken nose.” He said slowly, as if he were making sure he was getting it right. When Hinata looked at him blankly in response, Kageyama laughed. “Are you ever going to learn how to think first?” 

“I do sometimes,” Hinata said, turning his face away. His tone was childish and obstinate, because even he knew it wasn’t true. Holding onto his shoulders, Kageyama laughed again, his amusement shaking them both. Hinata untangled himself, clumsily elbowing him in the process, and retreated away from all the places where they were touching.

Kageyama let his hands fall away as Hinata wedged himself against the bed. “Could have fooled me,” he said. It wasn’t comfortable, being strewn over his bag, his hair still wet and cold, but he didn’t sit up. It was too easy to stay there and enjoy the ridiculous moment. Too easy to appreciate Hinata’s friendship.

Hinata shook his head and smiled. It was a funny expression, not his usual toothy smile or even his sneaky grin. His face was turned and he was looking away, like he was trying to hide it. The expression was new on his face, at least to Kageyama. It was timid around the edges, but fond and a little—

His heart screeched to a complete halt. His mind went blank, save for the echoes of the word his brain supplied next:

_ Cute. _

Kageyama blinked rapidly, and looked away from Hinata, as if he could will himself to unthink the word. He’d just been spending too much time thinking about, looking at, and touching Hinata’s face. Anyone would get a little weird after breaking their friend’s nose and then suddenly touching them all the time, right? The weird thought was just a result of all of his worry, that’s all. Because in what world, would he, Kageyama Tobio, find his best friend, Hinata Shouyou,  _ cute? _

Pushing himself upright, Kageyama rolled off of his bag and scooted discretely away, trying not to look at Hinata. But he looked anyway, and Hinata was still wearing that same look, his ears going pink, and yep, there was Kageyama’s heartbeat again.

It beat twice as hard as it ever had before, as if catching up. Was it possible for someone’s heart to beat out of their chest? Kageyama felt like he was about to find out as his mind whirred with this new information. 

Wait.

_ Was _ it new information? It was no secret that the vast majority of third year girls found Hinata attractive. Their classmates would talk about it in the halls as they walked by, Hinata too oblivious to hear. Kageyama had even caught Yachi staring sometimes so, no. It wasn’t new information, he already knew that Hinata was attractive.

But the reassurance did nothing to calm him. He snuck another peak, just to make sure that Hinata didn’t actually look any different, but when Kageyama looked up, it was like seeing him for the first time, all over again. 

Devastation made his stomach drop like a stone, because beyond the bruising and swelling, Kageyama saw Hinata completely. He wasn’t just cute, or attractive, he was warm, fun, kind, rough, strong, understanding, completely stupid and wonderful—

_ Oh. _

_ Oh, no. _

Hinata glanced at him from over his shoulder, the tips of his ears still pink. By all accounts, he was completely oblivious to Kageyama’s crisis. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, like he had when he’d asked Kageyama to watch videos the night before. “Wanna go on a walk and get some lunch?” He ruffled his hair, like he did when he was nervous, and started to make his bed. “We can’t play or go on a run, but there’s a restaurant nearby that I really like,” he shrugged, his voice trailing off. He flipped his comforter over his sheets without fixing them and glanced at Kageyama expectantly. 

_Oh, god, now he’s looking at me. How do I usually look at Hinata?_ _Is my face giving me away?_

Somehow, in the middle of trying to make amends for breaking Hinata’s nose, Kageyama had stumbled upon the earth-shattering realization that he was maybe, possibly, definitely attracted to his best friend. And now that best friend was looking at him and waiting for him to say something.

“Lunch,” he managed to repeat. His voice sounded faint to his ears, so he cleared his throat. He needed something to do with his hands, so he started rummaging around in his bag again, “I think my mom left some extra money.”

“Let’s go early, then, before it gets too crowded.” Kageyama heard Hinata shuffle around for a sweater. 

“Let me just…” Kageyama finally looked up at him, feeling lost, “Dry my hair.”

With a shrug, Hinata picked up the towel and tossed it to him. “I’m going to call my mom real quick. She was worried about me this morning.”

Kageyama sat on the floor for a long moment after Hinata left and tried to get his bearings once more. It was like the entire planet had shifted on its axis, and gravity had been completely inverted. He got ready slowly, memories popping into his head now colored with his realization. The nights he stayed up just a little too late because he and Hinata were messaging back and forth. The days he went to school extra early, just to see his face when Kageyama beat him there. The secret pleasure Kageyama experienced every time he noticed Hinata taking care of himself. 

His mind was still tumbling when they left Hinata’s house a little while later. 

As far as he could tell, Hinata didn’t notice. He carried on like normal, as if the lilt of his voice and the way the breeze ruffled his hair weren’t capable of unraveling Kageyama where he stood. 

The air was cool, at least, and Kageyama took solace in his thin athletic coat. He zipped it all the way to his chin and stuffed his hands into his pockets with his shoulders bunched by his ears. 

How had he never noticed the way the light caught Hinata’s little flyaways, making them glow gold and orange? Or how casually Hinata bumped into him, whether to punctuate whatever he was saying or because he was too carefree to try not to. 

They walked side by side down Hinata’s street, Kageyama drifting beside him like a shadow. The sun was warm on his face. He sighed when Hinata bumped into him for the upteenth time, sending a jolt of electricity right to the ends of his fingers, knotted in his pockets. 

“You know,” Hinata said, “I was expecting this walk to be more painful.”

_ Oh, it’s plenty painful,  _ Kageyama thought. “Why do you sound disappointed?”

Throwing him a cheeky grin, Hinata said, “Well I thought about playing it up so you would feel bad and pay for lunch.” The tips of Kageyama’s ears began to warm and Hinata studied him, “But I can tell you feel bad enough, so I didn’t want you to worry any more.”

“Ah,” Kageyama slowed down, “Thanks?” he asked. 

Hinata bumped into him again and pointed to a sign that was just coming into view. “Ooh, there it is!” He grinned at Kageyama, smiling for a moment as if there were nothing wrong at all. “Come on, I’m starving.” 

Before he knew it, Hinata had grabbed hold of his elbow and was pulling him towards the door. Helpless, Kageyama let himself be pulled along, swept up once more in Hinata’s gravity.

The woman working the front of the restaurant gasped when she saw Hinata’s injury, and fussed over him as if he were a relative. She even introduced herself to Kageyama, as a friend of Hinata’s family, before taking their orders. 

Kageyama paid for their lunch. His mom had given him extra money after he’d explained everything, but not only that, but he’d realized that this was possibly his only chance to do something like this for Hinata. He’d never have this kind of excuse again, hopefully.

“You didn’t really have to pay, you know,” Hinata told him as they left with their food. “I was joking when I said that.”

“I know.” Kageyama said, letting his steps drift a little closer. He had this, at least for now, so he decided to make the most of it. They headed back the way they came, carefully keeping their takeout from getting jostled as they went. The neighborhood was quiet, even though it was sunny and clear out. Kageyama took a deep breath, committing the bright sun and sound of Hinata’s steps to memory. “Hinata?”

“What?”

He wasn’t really sure what he needed to know or wanted to ask. It was too big to put into words, so what came out was, “Do you ever think about the future?”

Hinata paused, hugging his takeout bag close to his chest. “The future?” he asked, tilting his face up to the sky. “Yeah, of course I do. What about it?”

“I don’t know,” Kageyama said. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to get at. “What do you think will happen to us?”

Hinata glanced at him. “What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes glittering. “We’re going to play volleyball all over the world.”

Relief burst in Kageyama’s chest, and all he could do was shake his head. With that simple, confident answer, Hinata had set everything right again. All the questions he’d been holding in his chest were answered, somehow. “All over the world?”

“We agreed on this years ago. Don’t tell me that you forgot,” Hinata said, laughing. “Unless you’re giving up?” He lifted his chin in challenge, his eyes bright and focused. It was one of those expressions that always brought out the competition in Kageyama.

The park came into view as Hinata steered them around a corner. Their shoulders bumped together, and Kageyama wasn’t sure if it was Hinata who’d touched him, or vice versa. He glanced down at his friend, rival, partner, and now,  _ crush _ , and grinned before saying, “Never.”


End file.
